We had an interesting night last night. We were invited out to the country to celebrate Thanksgiving. Yep, with the turkey and stuffing and the works. It was a beautiful evening, one of the first with little tasty whiffs of fall in the air. I arrived with pecan pie, a basket full of husband-made fresh bread, clean kids, and my mind set on being grateful. What I got was a huge whomp of gratitude for our beautiful rich life here. And almost a sense of shame for how blind I can be.

A former Miss America was at dinner last night. A woman who is like a walking bolt of lightening. She is 100% zip and warmth and shine. She has a few barns with a few horses and, since she was at the party on her gator, when it was time to feed the horses she loaded up my family and the only other kid at the party and off we got. She showed the kids how to scoop feed and tote bales and keep your hand flat. At one point, I get tears in my eyes here, she knelt down in front of my daughter, cupped her face, and said, "please do not ever put that sweet dear face in front of a horses mouth. A horse would never mean to bite you, but might get curious." It was the concern she was showing, the tender way she took in my daughter, and the way her lighting focused itself directly into the fear Riley carries. Miss America addressed my daughter's deepest fantasy of riding and her fear of horses with an amazingly empowered strength. For the past 3 years all Riley has dreamed of and feared was addressed and contained in that gesture from this powerhouse of a woman. Now Riley is ready to ride.

The other kid is a boy a few years older than Henry. He has a touch of autism, is high functioning, and delightful. As we tore around the barn, it is not easy to keep up with a lightening bolt, night was falling. By the time we all turned to get back in the gator and roll to the party it was getting quite dark. This kid turned to me completely earnest and said, "will you please protect me from the monsters." He was dead serious, asking for what he needed, and pretty sure he would find help. He must have good parents. I said, "Oh, Of Course we will protect you from monsters. We are professional monster protectors." That was all I could come up with. But my son had something much more powerful. He said, "I'll show you how to protect yourself from monsters" and we all leaned in close to hear this very important information. Then my son, the most unassuming, easy going, quietest kid ever, let out a huge belch. It was amazing, how much air he had in there. He burped and burped and it was brilliant. Not only was it funny and got this kid laughing. It was believable and got this kid focused on trying to burp instead of searching for monsters. I was so proud of Henry.
"When Wendy Dascomb, Miss Virginia of 1969 won the Miss USA title, she was a cheerleader and the girl voted most popular in her school. She is notoriously known to have made an unconventional farewell speech during the 1970 Miss USA Pageant. She was quoted as saying, “…I learned a lot while traveling this year...the places...the people...it...some of it made me very very happy and the rest was just sort of discouraging. I have a very very strong hope for the girl who's the winner this year. I hope that she can stand in this place, at this time and relate to the viewing public a year of beautiful and meaningful experiences rather than my year's occupation with fear...a great deal of fear for our world."

Wendy did the job asked of her by the organization, which seemed to be endless appearances in stores dressed in a swimsuit. Of these she said, "I'd walk down the runway in these swimsuits, and I'd see all these women with rollers in their hair, their children all around them, looking at me, gritting their teeth, hating me. They had to believe there was some idealized existence, some perfect life, and that I was living it. I'd feel so much sympathy for them...they had to believe in the myth of the beauty queen. I was just another way that people use to run away from their problems, just another means of masking what is wrong with our lives. They needed the fantasy, but they hated me for living it."